Happy Golden Days
by SilkenDreamer
Summary: Future!Storybrooke. Red and Jiminy's children return home for Christmas, each with a lot on their minds. Flynn is tired of travelling, Rufus has big news to share, Merida has a decision to make and Clare wishes someone would notice she's not a baby anymore. This Christmas their lives will change forever.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello all! As my first contribution (I hope to have time for more!) to the Red Cricket Christmas Bash I'm filling the prompt of "Red Cricket and their children do something Christmas related". It started out as a small fluff piece and now it's 25 pages long so I'll post it in three parts. It's a sequel to Friend in Need, sort of, but you don't have to read that to understand anything in this story. I hope you will enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Flynn Lucas-Hopper drew a deep breath when he entered the house. All the smells he knew from growing up met him, bringing him back the memories as if they had happened yesterday. He smelled his mother's perfume, clean sheets, the tea his father favored and warmth. Added to it was the sweet scent of the Christmas cookies his mother made, walnuts and red apples. Feeling relaxation seep through him he smiled when he heard the music. It sounded like his father had won the picking game and a smooth, soothing blues version of "White Christmas" was melting in the air. Setting down his bag and hanging his leather jacket on the hooks he had made in crafts class in sixth grade he smiled. He remembered how proud he had been of those, how painstakingly he had worked on them to bring them to his parents who had immediately put them up and never used anything else since. It hadn't mattered to them the hooks were uneven and that they had to be re-screwed every six months. He'd made it so they loved it.

Catching his reflection in the hall mirror he ran a hand through his dark hair. It was getting long again, the edges of it brushing the tops of his shoulders. The image in it was the same as usual, with the light green eyes of his mother, her dark, straight hair, her cheekbones, the masculine version of her mouth. He had a narrow face, dark stubble and sharp canines that gave him a vaguely dangerous look though he had never seen it himself. Women seemed to like it though, their comments ranging from rock star to pirate to rogue prince. His tall build and wide shoulders he had his father to thank for though and grinning sardonically at the thought that he was just so damn pretty he steered into the kitchen.

Leaning against the doorjamb he felt his heart warm and squeeze. His parents were making dinner, his mother in black jeans and a red sweater of his father's, sleeves rolled up and a white apron tied around her waist. At fifty two (though no one was allowed to disclose her age on pain of death) she was still slim, her hair still rich and dark, her skin smooth, only a few crows feet betraying she was over forty. The green of her eyes was still as bright, her smile still as easily summoned, as he remembered from his childhood. She was cutting carrots and he recognized all the signs of his favorite food being made. At twenty-five that still made his day. Feeling his love for his mom rise in his chest, for remembering and for the effort, he saw his dad step up behind his mother.

"I'm not sure you're doing that right." His dad's voice, the warm, deep sound of it the best cure for nightmares, insecurities and hurts in the world sounded over the music. As a child he'd been comforted by the that tone countless times.

"No? And how is meant to be done?" His mother's voice was filled with laughter as his father put his hands over hers, his back flush against hers.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to show you…It's rather complicated."

"Oh?" His mother raised an eyebrow. "I'm a pretty fast learner."

"Okay, we'll give it a shot. Here, put this here." He put the knife down. "And then you turn, like so," He turned her so she was flush against him, her wrists still in his hand, held behind her back. "Not too bad. Then you tilt your head, just so…Perfect." Both smiling, he claimed her lips and kissed her. Letting her wrist slip from his grip she wound them around his neck and pulled herself up on her toes. Feeling both happy to see his parents so obviously still in love after twenty-seven years together he was also slightly disturbed, as any child would be, to see his parents kissing. Though, he thought when he saw it, was it any wonder he still hadn't found anyone to be with seriously? No girl he had ever been with had ever come close to give him the feeling he saw shining in the eyes of his parents when they looked at each other. Deciding when his mother ran her hand into his dad's hair it was high time to interrupt he cleared his throat.

"Mum, dad." Breaking apart they both smiled widely.  
"Flynn, you're here!" His mother left his father's embrace, her hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary on his sleeve. Opening her arms she wrapped him into a hug. As always feeling strangely protective as he now towered over her he pulled her close, the scent of her warm and welcome in his nostrils.

"Mum. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, baby. It's so great to have you home." Pulling back she laid a hand to his cheek. "And handsome as ever. You get that from your father." She winked as she said is as it was obvious to anyone who he looked like the most.

"It's true. My smarts I get from my mother."

"Flatterer." She stepped back so his father could wrap him a hug. He had never been too protective of his manliness to not hug and kiss his children freely and hugging him back Flynn realized how much he'd missed them. The easy companionship they had, the cozy home they'd built, the love they spread to all around them.

"Dad."

"It's good to see you. Come on in, have a seat and tell us about your latest adventures." So he did, seated with a beer at the kitchen island, he related the latest dingy bars he had played, how Keith, the drummer, had been banned from entering the entire state of Wisconsin and how they had smuggled him to the gigs in under the name Gregor, telling everyone he was a Scotsman. Keith had happily made nonsensical sounds people assumed was his accent and not questioned further.

"How are things here? Anything new since we Skyped last?"

"Well, Rufus is thinking about expanding the bookstore next year, it's going really well and he and Cecilia think it's time to." His mum said as she set pasta water to boil. Always they spoke of their children first, when asked what was going on, never them. They'd speak about Rufus, Merida and Clare before getting to what they had been up to. So though he'd spoken to all three of his siblings recently he settled down to listen, balancing his beer on his knee.

Cecilia was his brother's wife, a sweet, pretty girl and the daughter of Belle and Rumpelstiltskin. His brother and her had been childhood friends, always teetering on the edge of something more, even as children. They had dated since they were fifteen and no one had been surprised when they got married at twenty.

"Merida is talking about finishing her degree earlier by taking on another two courses next term, which both your mother and I have told her we think is too much, but you know Merida." He did indeed, but not like his dad. They had always had a special bond, his dad's first daughter and him. Maybe that why she was studying to become a psychiatrist at Brown. Between her postgraduate studies Merida rode, fenced, scuba dived and rock climbed. Anything vaguely dangerous she loved and he knew it worried his parents to distraction.

"I do. How is she going to have time for all her hobbies?"

"I have no idea. I think she was talking about giving them up for a while and finish." Flynn snorted,

"She'd never make it. She loves them all too much. Is she seeing anyone?"  
"Not that we know of. She says she doesn't have time." His mother rolled her eyes. "No time. At least that way we know it's no one serious. If it were she'd take time." She gave the sauce a stir and nodded when his father held up a bottle of wine. Accepting a glass she sat down as well as his dad got out salad makings.

"Clare is working until seven tonight, but she'll be home in time for dinner. She's looking at cooking schools online and thinking about whether she should take a year to work or go straight there." Clare, the baby of the family had started working as a waitress at the diner at fourteen, as they all had, to earn pocket money and learn some responsibility. It had turned out Clare had a knack for cooking and had moved into the kitchen to learn from Clark, their chef and Granny herself. By now she was fairly running the place when she wasn't at school. At eighteen she was the only one to still live at home with their parents.

"She should go somewhere else, get some more experience, I think."

"Maybe," his mother said and sipped her wine. As the last child to leave the nest and the youngest he knew she was having some trouble letting her go.

"And you, how about you two?"  
"Well, your dad has cut down his working time by a few hours a week so we can actually see each other some. By now most people here have reconciled their two sides, found peace. He's going to need a hobby, though try telling him that working is not a hobby." She sent a teasing smile over her shoulder.

"It's not work, it's research. And I…All right, stop grinning at me like you two know everything. I'll find something to do. Your mother could take me to one of her knitting groups, for example."

"It's a craft class."

"Mhm." His dad innocently returned to the salad making. "But she's finished her anthropology degree now and is looking into civil engineering."  
"Really?"

"Yes, it seems fun." After he and his siblings had been old enough to not need their mum full time she had began studying and somehow had ended up bitten by it. In the time since she had collected three degrees.

"You are so weird."

"It's genetic. Congratulations."

"I forgive you. You're still my favorite mother."

"Why thank you, sweetie. You can prove it by setting the table."

o.O.o

Rufus Lucas-Hopper hurried up the porch steps of his parents' house. As the drive from the store was short he had foregone his coat and slipping inside he was thankful to find it warm and smelling of Bolognese sauce. He was sure it would snow soon and smiled to himself thinking of seeing Storybrooke wrapped in its white winter coat again. Cecilia loved it and never failed to get excited about the snow. He was sure there would be a snowball fight with his siblings, snow angels with Cecilia and building a fort with the younger citizens of Storybrooke on the agenda tomorrow.

He heard the rattling of plates in the dining room and shuffling upstairs and went for upstairs first. He found his mother smoothing fresh sheets on his brother's bed, the room still the same teenage shrine to rock it had been while he lived there.

"Hi, Mum," she straightened and smiled.

"Sweetie, there you are." Reaching him to accept a kiss on the cheek, she asked,

"Where's Celia?"

"She's coming a bit later, she's just closing up. Will I do for now?" His mother's lips twitched.

"You are a rather poor replacement but if I can't have Celia, I suppose…" She joked and bent to gather up the sheets that had been on the bed.

"I'll take those."

"I'm okay."

"I know, just let me anyway." He took them and she put her hands on her hips.

"You're too sweet, you know that? Just like your father." It wasn't the first time he'd heard the comparison. In many ways he was his father's son. They shared a love of books and learning, of quiet and peace, of soul and blues, of tradition and habit. Neither had ever felt the compelling need to travel that seemed to haunt Merida and Flynn. In many ways he had grown up to find a best friend in his dad and twice a week they met after work to walk or have a beer. Down to his looks he was the younger vesion of his father, with sandy hair that looked ginger in the sun, curly and soft. His eyes shone the same blue and his mouth smiled the same slanted smile. Where Flynn was his mother to a tee Rufus was all their dad.

"Who would want to be anything but sweet to you? Should I put these in the laundry room?" Amused, Ruby shook her head.

"Smooth talkers all of you are. Please, in the left bin, I'll do them tomorrow." Nodding, Rufus set off down the hall and dumped the laundry in the bin. On his way back to the kitchen he found his dad in the den.

"Fuss, hi." The nickname was unfortunate but it had stuck. Flynn was the only one who had escaped, unfairly. Rufus, Merida and Clare were most often called Fuss, Merry and Little.

"Dad. What are you up to?"

"Your mother's busy interrogating your brother about the girls he's been seeing so I thought I'd try and get this to work to get her this thing I saw for Christmas." He gestured to the ancient tabletop computer where a shopping site was open.

"I thought you already got mum a present?"  
"I did. This is just an extra. I saw it and thought she might like it." That, Rufus thought, was why his parents were still happily together. They never gave up thinking of the other first. He suspected if they ever had to go to couples counseling their question would not be revolving around "I need," but "What do you need," thus cancelling the need in the first place.

"Okay, let's see what Belinda is up to now." Belinda was the affectionate name his mother had given the computer. Whenever Rufus mentioned upgrading it to something snazzier his parents just smiled and shook their heads. They knew her quirks, they said. It still beat him how they could want a machine you had to slap twice to start, then log in once, restart and wait for it to boot. Then you went into network connections and disabled them, enabled, waited for connection and then you were good to go. His mother claimed this time was useful; to think about life in general and the big questions and also made sure they weren't over-reliant on the machine. It drove him up the wall but then he didn't have to use it.

"These books here?"

"Mmh, they're the ones she needs for her new course. I figured since I already got her the necklace with the picture of all of you engraved on it I should get her something practical as well." His father was his hero for a reason so he settled down in front of the computer and struggled until he could get the basket to the checkout and hit "buy". The previous purchases screen came up under the heading "Have You Forgotten Something?" and Rufus felt his cheeks grow red. The screen showed various lacy types of lingerie, a collection of corsets and pairs of stockings.

"Ah…did you already get mum something?" To his surprise his shy father just chuckled.

"I didn't. Your mum must've meant to surprise me." His voice was warm and appreciative and quickly Rufus closed the window. Though he appreciated knowing his parents still had a healthy sex life he'd prefer to not know what his mother wore in the bedroom.

"Right. Well, that's those books ordered." Rufus got up and his dad laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't tell your siblings about your mother's shopping. I think she'd be embarrassed." He shook his head.

"Of course not," though he would have really liked to share the pain.

"Did you get a start on those joins for the new shelves, by the way?"

"No, not yet."

"Want a hand next week? Your mum's going to a girl's night up at the Mansion."

"Yeah, that'd be good. I think Celia is going too." His mother poked her head into the room and he turned.

"Fuss, there you are, your brother's looking for you, he said he hadn't seen you yet. Merida just texted, she should be here any minute."  
"I'll go say hi."

o.O.o

Merida Lucas-Hopper carefully slowed down as she drove past the sign spelling "Welcome To Storybrooke", knowing the patch of road past it always froze once the thermometer dropped below zero. It definitely was, she thought as she glanced out her window, the frost palpable in the quiet in the air. Wanting to feel it she rolled down the window of the cherry red cabriolet her mother had given her when she went off to university.

"So you'll come back," she'd said with a smile, not a thought given to losing one of her most prized possessions, the red convertible.

"But…what about Flynn? Or Fuss, or Little?" She was sure any of her siblings would love it. Okay, maybe not Rufus, he probably thought it was flashy. But the others.

"They don't have the same connection to it." Ruby put a hand on the shiny hood affectionately.

"What's that?"  
"Well, you were most likely made in this car."

"Mum! Ew!" Ruby had just laughed in that rich, full way she did and tucked one of Merida's bright red curls behind her ear.

"Flynn got some of our savings when he left, Rufus got Marco's old apartment in town, Clare will most likely get part of the Diner when she's older. This is yours, Merry." So Merida had done all she could and just hugged her mum.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then she had driven it down the drive, away from the house she'd spent her whole life in as her parents waved from the porch, smiling, their arms around each other. But Merida had caught the last glimpse of them when they'd thought she couldn't see them anymore in the rearview mirror, her mother turning to her father, her head bent, quiet tears shaking her. Merida had turned the corner, laid her head on the steering wheel and shed a few tears herself. However excited she was about staring university, of making it on her own she'd just miss them so much.

Miss her father who would come in and kiss her goodnight every night, his scent and voice the best lullaby she had ever known. Her father who would always stop to listen, no problem too small, no worry left unrested, no secret ever shared. Miss her mother who would laugh every day and sing in the shower, who would play even the wildest games with her her children and who lived through impulse. And through it all her father would watch her, adoration in his eyes.

Checking her mirrors and flashing her lights in greeting as she spotted Sleepy's car (both to say hi and to make sure he stayed awake behind the wheel) she flicked her indicators. He responded, and satisfied he was awake Merry turned right.

That was all she wanted from a man really, one who would look at her the same way her father looked at her mother. With love, compassion, respect, understanding, want and disbelief - as if he couldn't believe she was still there, still his. Was that too much to ask? Merry didn't think so. Turning right again up her parents drive she sighed in contention as she saw the lights on in the window, the silver angel she'd made in third grade hanging in its spot of honor in the front room. Checking her wild hair had not gone for broke and was growing straight up and that the make-up she rarely wore hadn't smudged she turned off the ignition before getting out. The quick glance in the mirror had assured her her hair was indeed crazy but after twenty-one years of it she was used to that. The bright red curls were one of her mother's favorite toys and though they'd never stay in any do, braid or knot she never tired of trying. Under the wild locks her face was strong and angular, more striking than pretty with high cheek bones, a wide mouth and a straight nose with a small bump from when Flynn had broken it by throwing a baseball at her when she was seven. "Accident" he had termed it but she knew his aim was as sure as his charm. She'd gotten him back though with a perfect curveball to the groin. Smiling at the memory she hauled her duffel bag out of the back and slung it over her shoulder. The bump was more of a fond memory than a source of disappointment to her now. She'd never be as beautiful as her mother or as pretty as her sister but she was tall and strong and in his more romantic moments a past boyfriend had claimed she looked like a mermaid so she figured things could be worse.

Jogging up the steps she stepped in and dumped her bag with a thud.  
"I'm home!" Flynn ambled out from the kitchen, a beer in his hand.

"Midget. You're here." Leaning against the doorjamb in his worn jeans and t-shirt, his long hair falling around his face he looked every bit the rock star and Merry tried to fight the smile. Failing miserably she laughed and jumped, wrapping him in a hug. Catching her with one arm he laughed and swung her round. Setting her down she pushed her hair out of her face. Her brother was still taller than her, one of the few people who could swing her around. Rufus was just the same height (to his everlasting annoyance) and Clare only reached to her shoulder. Merry was sure it was because of her brothers' teasing when she was growing up about being shorter than them she had willed her body to grow tall. Grinning at him she said,

"McCool himself. What a pleasure."

"Hey, what have I said about calling me that?" Setting his beer down Merry readied to spring into a run as she said innocently,

"What? McCool? I thought that was your artist name." It had been what he had picked, deadly serious, at thirteen. He had petitioned their parents fruitlessly to have his name legally changed to McCool Hopper and Merry thought it was a great shame they hadn't agreed. "I mean it's a classic. It'll be up there with the greats one day, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones and McCool Hopper."

"Okay, that's it." Lounging for her she thought she must be getting slow as he caught her in a headlock.

"How long have you been here, Merry? A minute? And you two are already wrestling." Rufus had come down the stairs and smiling up at him from her head locked position.

"Fuss. You look good. New tweed? Can it be new, actually? It always looks old. Or is that just you?" For a moment he raised an eyebrow and she wondered for a second if her brother had grown up and gone boring. But then he chuckled and shook his head.

"Okay, now you're really dead." Then he swung over the banister and landed in front of them, easily lifting her legs. Flynn changed his grip and together they carried her struggling, laughing form through to the living room.

"Do you want to do the holding her down or the tickling?"

"No! No, not the tickling! I'll be good, I promise, just no tickling!" Bucking in his grasp wildly, Flynn lost his balance and tumbling in a heap to the floor Merry slid like an eel from under them and crawled off. Then Rufus got a hold of her leg and pulled her back.

"Aren't you getting a bit old for this?" Their father had entered and everything inside of Merida lit up.

"Dad!" Scrambling up she all but climbed into his arms and chuckling he brought her close, his arms as strong and warm as when she was little.

"Hi, baby. Beating up your brothers again?"

"You bet." Ignoring her brothers protesting from the floor behind her she tilted her head. "I missed you, daddy."

"I missed you more. Welcome home." Hugging him again her mother entered.

"Darling! You're here!" Rushing in and hugging her close Merry closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of having both her parents near.

"Where else would I be? It's almost Christmas!"

"Merry's Christmas," her brothers chorused from behind her. It was a saying as old as her nickname and hugging her parents closer Merry knew it was. All hers.

o.O.o

Clare Lucas-Hopper hurried her steps and drove her hands deeper into her pockets. Though she had a beanie pulled down deep over her forehead and a scarf wrapped up to her nose the very air seemed insistent on biting any inch of exposed skin. Wrinkling her small nose in distaste at it and wishing it would at least snow if it was going to be so cold she turned down the corner of her street. Seeing three cars she recognized in addition to the usual one, she grinned. Her siblings were home. It always brought her a slightly bittersweet feeling every time they were home. For a few days everything seemed to be the way she remembered it, then after a few days they would leave again. Rufus just to his and Cecilia's apartment and the bookstore in town, but still. Sometimes she felt really alone being the only one not yet off to an adventure. The coming term would be her last in Storybrooke High and next fall she would be going to culinary school. Where, she hadn't yet decided, torn between the closer Institute where she could go home over weekends and the more prestigious, Culinary Arts.

She was actually hoping her siblings could help her choose. Even though she knew Flynn would ask which one seemed more fun. Rufus would ask which had a better program and Merry would say toss a coin. But knowing didn't mean hearing and she couldn't wait to hear their voices again. Couldn't wait to be woken by teasing voices, arguments and laughter. Couldn't wait to shout at Merry for taking to long in the shower washing the masses of hair she had. Couldn't wait to see Flynn staring in front of him as he shoveled cereal into his mouth in the morning, barely noticing when their mother ran a hand over his hair and kissed his temple. To watch Rufus would sit inhaling his coffee as if his life depended on it. See Merry lie with her head on the table, only grunting in response to any questions or initiated conversation. Her dad would be bright-eyed and keep catching her mother's eyes, her hand, stroke her cheek, as they got ready for the day ahead. And in the middle would be her, the only one of the Hopper-Lucas children who actually didn't mind mornings. She'd help her parents cook and laugh at her siblings' apathetic morning faces.

Hurrying her steps again she waved to Mrs. Merriweather who was peeking out through her window. Cheerily, the lady who had to be closing in on being quite a few centuries old, waved back. Reaching the garden Clare ducked under the birdhouse she'd made at school in second grade, the opening too small for even the most anorexic of sparrows. Catching herself from slipping she decided to use the back entrance to avoid the spot on the porch that always froze. Her clumsiness would make sure she slipped.

All her siblings were all tall, lithe and graceful but she'd gotten the short end of the stick, literally, as she was short and if not sturdy, certainly not lithe and with a lethal clumsiness that earned her more than a few scars in the kitchen. Rushing up the back steps (too close to the warmth of the basement to freeze unless it was really cold) she got herself inside and felt her whole body relax. She could hear Merry and Flynn's voices trailing out from the kitchen and a smile broke out on her face. They were here! Tugging off her hat and gloves, dropping them where she stood, knowing very well her mother would send her a stern look and send her to fix it soon. Letting her jacket follow she fluffed her hair up from it's sad, hat-contained flatness and glanced in the reflection of the glass on the washing machine in the mudroom. The only one in her family to be blonde and blue eyed her mother had jokingly sworn to her father he was really the dad when she had been born. It had taken until the morning when Granny had seen her to be explained – it was her coloring. Or had been before it turned grey, early as well, which she blamed entirely on Clare's mother. With pin straight, bright blonde hair, a heart shaped face, a small mouth with a pronounced cupid's bow and eyes the color of a summer lake Clare looked more like a young Mrs. Lucas than her parents. Her figure seemed to have been inherited from her as well, a petite frame with generous curves. Finding clothes that fit was an absolute nightmare but she did like the way her waist nipped deep and added flair to her short stature. Beyond their looks she shared a love of the Diner with her great-grandmother and a passion for cooking.

But if she thought about it, which she rarely did because after all she was herself and who she was like the most hardly mattered, she'd say she was most similar to her dad in the way she was. Merry and Flynn were both more of their mother, letting impulse and instinct guide them. Rufus and Clare both liked thinking and planning in advance, always careful how they treaded. And, they were both happy to stay, thriving at home and feeling no need to travel, never bothered by the itch that bothered both Flynn and Merida. But now they were back, and would be for at least a week. Clare couldn't wait.

Managing to get her wet boots off she skipped down the hall, hair flying, a laugh already in her throat. As she burst through the door she found Merry and Flynn on the floor, both stretching their long legs under the table as they played a board game set up on the coffee table. Rufus was on an armchair pulled up close, his eyes squinting behind his glasses as Merry teased him about taking so long to make his move. He just smiled and leaned further forward, his elbows resting on his knees. She didn't see her parents but with a whoop she rushed in and Merry found herself with her arms full of all five foot three of her sister. Hugging back Clare let the familiar scent of her older sister seep into her mind. The shampoo she favored, the faint note of grass that seemed to cling to her, a trace of wilderness that always followed her and the hint of leather of the jacket she tended to wear.

"Clare, it's so great to see you. You're starting to look all grown up!" Pulling back Merry scrutinized her face.  
"And still so pretty. I remember I hate you now."

"Then I'll taker her. Hiya, gorgeous." Flynn pulled her into a hug and fiercely hugging her big brother back she realized how much she'd missed him. "We good-looking siblings have to stick together. Those uggos over there don't understand the burden we bear."

"Uggos? Sounds like someone needs to go through their high school yearbook again. Right, Fuss?" Rufus smiled back at her.

"Indeed. We should tie him to a chair and make him watch as we go though every single page."

"Excellent idea. But after dinner, I'm starving."

"You're always starving, if you have to be full for it to happen we'll never find the time."

"Ah! Low blow. I'm not going to be on your team anymore. Little, how about girls against boys instead?"

"Doing what?"

"This game for example. I'm sure we can whip their asses in Operation."

"Yes, you can have, Little for that game I'll take Fuss – he has the hands of a brain surgeon." Clare stuck out her tongue at Flynn and scooted over to Merry as Rufus wiggled his fingers like a piano player preparing for a sonata.

o.O.o

Ruby leaned her head on Archie's shoulder as they watched their children mock squabble over who had lost which parts of the game, as always discovering the poor little man in Operation only had two organs left to perform surgery on.

"I love it when they're all here." Jiminy drew her close, leaning his chin on top of her head.

"I do too. It's so strange to see them grown up."

"Don't say that. They're all my babies still."

"Quite large babies. But I know what you mean."

"I almost wish we could have another one. Why did I think we were done after four again?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled closer.

"I believe it had to do with not sleeping a full night for about seven years."

"Right. I remember. But oh, I wish I could do it again. Just have them be my little babies forever."

"There'll be grandchildren. And their children."

"So strange. I could be a grandmother soon. Do I look like one?" Amused, Jiminy looked down.

"No grandmother I've ever known."

"Good."

"But when you do look like one you'll still be the sexiest grandmother in the world." Ruby laughed and squeezed his arm.

"You always know what to say. Should we have dinner?"

A/N: Stay tuned for the continuation! S.D.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome back and thanks to all of you for reading! I hope you'll enjoy part two.

"Why am I being bossed around by a girl half my size?" Flynn asked out loud the next day as he found himself in the kitchen with Little and his mother, making Christmas "nibbles" and cookies for the annual party the Hoppers put on every year on the 24th. Merry and Fuss were off with their father to pick a tree and he had been shanghaied into kitchen duty. Apparently there were downsides to waking up last.

"Because Merry will beat you up if there's no food at the party," Clare replied from where she was peering into the oven to take the cookies out at the exact moment they were ready. Dressed in jeans and a jumper with tiny snowflakes on it that Granny Lucas had kitted, with her blonde hair tucked into a ponytail, and a flour stain on her cheek Flynn was struck by how pretty his sister had gotten. The rare bone structure and smooth skin that spelled enduring prettiness even into old age and the sparkle of something in her eyes yet to be discovered. An icy dread met with hot anger suddenly filled in his chest with a hiss as he thought of how many boys had to be trailing after her already. If he had noticed in an off-hand, brotherly way there were bound to be hormonal boys by the dozen noticing. If they dared even lay a finger on Little, he'd-

"Sweetie, if you squeeze that rolling pin any harder it's going to break." His mother, comfortable in leggings and an oversized Christmas jumper, her eyes wondering, interrupted his thoughts and he cleared his throat. He wouldn't be able to look after Little himself. He was leaving again after New Year's. He had a gig in a seedy bar in Milwaukee on the 3rd. He was going to have to make sure Fuss was doing his job as older brother and keeping the teenage boys of Storybrooke away. Very far away, he thought with a shudder, as his own teenage years came to mind.

"I can take her. Maybe."

"You can try, baby." His mother teased and reached into the fridge. Clare giggled and brought the cookies out. Catching his look she said,

"One. You can have _one_."

"You're my favorite sister." He told her through the munching.

"I bet you'd say that if Merry was holding the cookies."

"I'm a cookie junkie. I can't help it. But your stuff is the best." Pressing a kiss to her hair he caught his mother's eyes as she brought out her Christmas apron. It was as old as Flynn and the red had faded to pink, the large Santa on it looking rather worn and tired after twenty-five years of uses and washes. But if anything meant Christmas to Flynn it was that apron. It meant Christmas dinner, Christmas cookies, his mother's hands and smiles, his father's twinkling eyes every time he saw his wife in it, Clare the baby's giggles the first time she saw it. All his best Christmas memories (barring the one where Roseanne Wilson had worn nothing but a large bow when she came to visit him in his room the year he had turned twenty) were somehow related to that apron. He felt Clare sigh contentedly next to him.

"There. Now it's really Christmas." Agreeing, he squeezed her closer and sneaked a second cookie from the sheet.

o.O.o

"That'll never fit inside." Rufus stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up at the giant tree.

"You're such a pessimist. It will, if we take it through the back and-" Merry argued and gestured wildly.

"Merry, sweetheart, even if we got it through the door it'd never fit in the living room." Her dad returned.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"Nice reference." Rufus referred to her Star Wars quote. "How about that one over there?" He nodded towards a medium sized tree across the lot.

"That? That's puny. Miniscule."

"That's just cause you're giant."

"Oh yeah? But you-"

"Children. Play nice."

"I'm always nice." She ambled off and smiled as she heard both her dad and her brother laughing. Turning to see them she was touched to see them smiling at each other as they looked at the next tree in the line. Her dad had put his arm around Rufus' shoulder and their heads were bent close as they discussed the tree. They were so similar. Their stance, their smiles, their looks. The way they always put others before themselves. Though she had always felt deeply connected to Flynn it had always been Rufus she'd gone to when she needed support. Just like their dad he'd always been able to give it. When she had been teased at school for being tall, gangly and with a wild fall of bright red hair it had been Fuss she'd gone to for help. He had listened, dried her tears, cheered her up and then he and Flynn had gone to beat up the worst bully. Their dad had been called to the school and told of the fight. And then he'd asked them what had happened. Not yelled or assumed, just asked. And Merry had told him the whole story - after which he had lectured for a while. About not condoning violence. Then he had bought them ice cream for defending her. Feeling her love for the two of them rise in her chest she snuck up behind them and put her arms around their shoulders.

"I think we have a winner." After seeing them in front of it she didn't think there should be any other tree. The moment after she said it the first snowflake fell.

o.O.o

Rufus saw the snowball hit Flynn squarely between his shoulder blades and laughed when he spun around, zoning in on him, his bright green eyes narrowing. The street was filled with people, the Hopper family snowball fight quickly drawing more and more people. By now the street for a whole block was filled with people throwing snowballs, making forts and enjoying the snow. The tree was still strapped to their car, forgotten for the moment as the Hopper family focused solely on pelting everything around them with snowballs.

His parents were in their garden, his mother easily having the better aim so his dad was fairly soaked. But he'd managed to get a few good hits in on his mother and both were laughing as she picked lumps of snow out of her hair. As he watched she drew him close by his green scarf and planted her lips on his. Still curved in a smile they met hers and his arms wound tight around her waist. Pressing harder against him and rising on her toes, his father lost his footing in the snow and with a yelp they fell backwards into a snowdrift. For a moment they looked surprised before his mother just laughed and hauled him close again. His father wrapped his arms around her and turned them over. Feeling the tips of his ears grow red he looked away. Seeing his siblings all wearing similarly awkward faces they grimaced at each other before Merry shrugged and threw a well-aimed snowball in Flynn's face.

He couldn't really blame his parents for still wanting to touch each other still, it was what he wanted to have one day with Cecilia but when it was your parents it was just…strange. Though he was going to learn how to deal with that one soon.

Seeing Cecilia pick her way over the icy bits of the pavement, her face flushed with cold and laughter he felt his throat tighten a bit. She was just so damn beautiful. It didn't matter had seen her every single day of his life so far, sometimes her face still took his breath away. She had the brown hair of her mother and the dark caramel eyes of her father, a petite frame and the softest mouth that smiled a lot. And inside of her was their child. He couldn't believe it still, it was so new. They hadn't told anyone though he wanted nothing more than tell his parents. They had agreed to wait until after Christmas to not disturb proceedings.

A baby, their baby, could come along in July and Rufus was scared out of his wits, happier than he had thought possible and filled with an overwhelming feeling of awe. They'd managed another miracle between the two of them. Cecilia liked to joke the first one was that he had worked up the courage to ask her out at all. He tended to agree as he sometimes still found it hard to believe she had said yes. He'd taken her to the library after opening hours, having asked her mother for the key and they had had a picnic on the floor among the one thing they both lived the most – books.

"Hi," she said as she reached him, her eyes sparkling.

"Hi, yourself."

"You know your parents are making out in that snowdrift over there, right?"

"I'm aware. Thank you for reminding me though."

"Oh, I thought you could be a bit uncomfortable after how I felt this morning, it's only fair. Your daughter is not a morning person either. I thought I'd never feel well enough to get to work."

"Do you feel okay now?"  
"Yes, all better." Contented, she stuck her hands in her pockets and smiled at where Flynn was tackling Merry, pulling her into a snow bank.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, we're both fine, Rufus."

"Maybe I should take you home. It can't be good for the baby to be out in the cold."

"We're fine, I promise. The fresh air is good for us. Stop fussing, Fuss."

"I can't help it. Are you really, really sure?" Cecilia rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.

"I am. My feet are a bit tired from standing, as they are everyday I've worked in a shop, which is the last eight years now and I'm really hungry. That is absolutely all." Relieved as she had stated specifics, and none being a serious complaint he smiled.  
"Well, that's easily fixed. Up you go," he bent and swept her up in his arms. Cecilia laughed,

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Your feet are tired and you're hungry. So it was either bring food here or bring you to food so I'll do just that. How do you feel about cookies?" She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Favorable. Do you know how much I love you?"

"I do. And I love you too." Pressing a kiss to her hair he carried her past where his parents were now thankfully untangled, his mother making what looked like a family of small snowmen while his father watched, up the porch steps and inside.

o.O.o

"Your brother is so hot." Estelle Schumacher, Clare's friend and daughter of Cinderella and Prince Thomas sidled up to Clare, dressed in a caricature of what winter clothes ought to be, covering less than they showed.

"Flynn?" Clare looked up from where she was making a little pile of ammunition to where Flynn was getting his face forced into a snow bank by Merry.

"Him too but no, Rufus. That smile, and the dimple, those arms. Every time I go to the bookstore I always get distracted by him and end up buying a pile of books I don't want. He thinks I have a serious interest in gerbils as I keep picking up books on them at the store." Clare wrinkled her nose. She couldn't imagine what other women saw in her brothers, physically. To her they were just her brothers and they looked the way they had always looked. "And the way he treats his wife. God, I get warm just thinking about it. Did you see how he just swept her up like she weighed nothing and carried her inside? Do you think they're going to make passionate love, too eager to wait another moment?"

"Ew, stop it."

"You don't see it? That look, the "can't wait until we're alone" look? Your dad gets it too, when he looks at your mum."

"Eww, for real this time, stop." Estelle shrugged.

"All right. But you don't know how lucky you are to have that to look up to. My parents have never looked at each other like that. In fact, they've never had sex." Amused, Clare raised her eyebrows.

"And how then, do you explain your presence here?"

"Magic. Or a test tube. But no intercourse took place, I am sure of it."

"Right."  
"Oh no, my brother is coming over. He's going to hit on you again, it makes me so uncomfortable. I'm going to go hit on your unmarried brother as revenge." Shaking her head at her friend as she ambled over to where a now wet and laughing Flynn was chasing Merry, she summoned a smile as Thomas Schumacher greeted her. Thomas was sweet and nice but he was just so _dull_. A year older than her and Estelle he was assured she would be grateful for whatever attention he deigned show her

"How's it going?"

"Pretty well. I hit Tiny with a good one. Though he's not the smallest target." Rolling her eyes as Thomas failed to get the joke she looked around. Rufus and Cecilia had gone inside. Something was going on with them lately, they were even more lovey-dovey than usual and Clare was going to find out what it was about, she promised herself. Her parents were out of the snowdrift now, laughing and shaking off snow on the porch. Merry and Flynn had started a fierce snowball fight with some kids from the block, the two of them against the kids, from what it looked like.

"Will you be at the party tonight?"  
"The one at my house? Yes, I will."

"Cool. Wanna go together?" Before Clare could open her mouth to reply he had leaned forward, clearly angling for a kiss and horrified, she stepped back. The next second seven snowballs hit him in the back. Looking up she saw Merry and Flynn with all the kids behind them, all laughing.

"Free for all!" Flynn called and pelted Thomas again. Hiding her smile, Clare took the opportunity to sneak off.

o.O.o

Merry sipped her mulled wine and enjoyed stepping back and watching the scene for a moment. Her mother was standing in front of the tree, her hands on her hips as she directed Merry's dad where the star looked just right. He was patiently moving it "a little up, a little to the left, no back, a little to the right". Flynn was tugging at the tangled Christmas lights looking like he had just been saddled with the job of emergency landing a plane full of babies and kittens in the middle of the Amazonian jungle. Rufus, Cecilia and Clare were unpacking the ornaments, "oohing" and "ahhing" over the ones that held special memories. The robin Flynn had made at school, the gingerbread man that had been bought at a year around Christmas shop on a trip to New York, the puppy in a stocking that a boy who had had a crush on Merry in first grade had gifted her. Each thing led to a story, a "Do you remember when…" and so on. Merry almost wished there wouldn't be a party in the evening just to keep it going on. The telling and hearing of stories. Of laughing at memories and of shared experiences. The time Flynn had been convinced Santa Claus lived in the basement because if you left cookies in there they got eaten (by Pongo, the dog they had had growing up, they all knew now). When Merry had hit the boy who had had a crush on her in the face because he teased Rufus about his glasses. Rufus' denial to eat turkey because they were a "Thanksgiving Bird", Clare's joy at receiving an Easy Bake oven one year. All the stories were brought out in the light like glittering treasures, carefully examined before they were lovingly replaced in the treasure chest that held them.

And before they ran out of stories the tree was finished, trimmed and shining in its usual spot. Satisfied, they all drank in the view of it before Ruby briskly said it was time to get ready for the party. One by one they want upstairs to prepare but Merry wanted to stay just a bit longer. To hold on to the magic just a little more.

University was amazing and she loved learning, loved being on her way somewhere. But sometimes she missed home so much she wanted to get in her car no matter the time and just drive. She knew it was childish but she still wanted to talk to her mom after a long day, wanted to hug her dad and bicker with her siblings. Every time she came home she was more and more convinced this was where she wanted to come back to. The Storybrooke she'd left, so sure she'd never want to live in a small town again was becoming less and less of the backwater prison it had seemed in her youth and more and more the solid ground she craved under her feet. Her parents had changed in her mind from an anchor that held her back to an anchor that saved her from losing her way and drifting.

Perhaps if her father was starting to slow down his work there would be space for her to take over one day. There was hardly need from more than one psychiatrist in Storybrooke but perhaps one day she could be that one. Live close to her family, see her father after work, shop with her mother on weekends, have dinner at Rufus and Cecilia's. The longer she thought about it the more she liked the idea. Getting up from sitting and watching the tree she decided it was something she'd have to speak to her parents about. But first she had a party to get ready for.

o.O.o

Clare smoother her dress and turned in front of the mirror. Her stomach fluttered and she wondered if _he_ would like the dress. Then she frowned. She didn't even know if he was coming and if he did come he would probably not notice what she was wearing. He never had before, why would he now?

Sitting down on her bed to don her shoes she felt sure she would always hope he would notice her. Would realize she was more than just the baby of the Hopper family. Even though he would probably see her as a baby when she was as old as Granny. Walking over to her dresser and picking up the earrings she'd chosen for their cheery sparkle while still being small and discreet she sighed. It was just as hopeless as it had always been to be in love with him. And still she couldn't help it, as little as she could help being the youngest in the family.

"Wow, you really went for it." Merry ambled in and Clare could tell she wanted to stick her hands in her pockets but the stunning black dress had none.

"I look like I'm trying too hard?" Clare wondered and reached for her earrings. They were stupid anyway, and the shoes were-

"No, no, I'm just used to seeing you in jeans and a sweatshirt. You look great. Fantastic dress."

"It used to be yours," Clare's lips twitched. Merry had a passion for buying pretty clothes but a habit of only wearing jeans.

"I'm sure it looks better on you. Not that I remember buying it." Unconsciously elegant she went over to Clare's bed and flopped down on it. She was dressed in a black dress that ended mid-thigh and flattered her slim figure, her hair was let down and caught the light like millions of golden flames and her legs looked endless, ending in black velvet pumps. As always when she compared herself with her sister she felt stumpier and duller than she had before. Turning back to the mirror she smoothed the heavy chignon and pretended to fiddle with her earring.

"Merry…"  
"Mm?"

"How do you make someone notice you?"

"What do you mean?" Merry sat up and tilted her head.

"Well, wherever you go men…I mean people always notice you."  
"Have you tried being six foot tall and have hair the color of an orange?"

"It's not orange," Clare protested and sat down next to her. "And it's not just the height and the hair. You make people laugh and talk and they always want to know more about you. Me, I…I…"

"Oh, I get it." Merry leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "It's a boy. That's why you've pulled out the big guns and look like a million dollars."  
"It's not! No, I just wondered because I…" Merry waved away her weak protestations.

"Listen Little, people like you. They can't help it, you're sweet and pretty and you _care_, anyone who speaks to you for a moment can see that. So who is this idiot who doesn't see that anyway?"

"No. No, I'm not telling so you can go and "help". If he won't realize on his own that I'm…that I'm here, then I don't want it."

"Attagirl. Well, you look fantastic so he's bound to notice that. And if he doesn't see the rest he's a moron. But, if I may make one, tiny suggestion?"

"What?"

"Take a leaf form our mother's book and wear this – here." Merry held out a tube of Red's trademark lipstick.

"I can't wear that. I'm too pale, I'll look like a clown."  
"Trust me, I'm your big sister after all." Sighing, Clare figured if it looked horrible she could wipe it off. Accepting it, Merry winked.

"He doesn't stand a chance."

o.O.o.

"Got a sec?" Rufus stuck his head into Flynn's room and he looked up from where he was deciding he still hated ties and was not going to wear one after all.

"Sure do. What's up?" Rufus ambled in, his hands in his pockets. In a slate grey suit and dark shirt he looked less like the small-town bookstore owner he was and Flynn tilted his head. "You clean up good."

"Thanks. Give me that," Rufus held out his hand for the discarded tie. Handing it over Flynn flopped down on the bed. "Don't you think it's time you learnt how to tie on of these?" Slinging it around his own neck he stepped up to the mirror to tie it.

"I don't wear one much. I'm not as settled and respectable as my little brother." Rufus raised an eyebrow at him in the mirror. "Speaking of being responsible, have you…have you been keeping en eye on Clare?"

"How do you mean?"  
"As in boys…I saw a few sending long looks today." Rufus shrugged,

"She's a pretty girl, they're bound to notice."

"As long as they don't act on the realization. She's still too young." Rufus chuckled and adjusted the knot in the tie.

"She's eighteen, Flynn. I don't think there's anything you or I can do about her dating."

"We could lock her up."

"Until when?"  
"When she's thirty she can maybe go out. Chaperoned." Rufus' lips twitched.

"Come on, Flynn. Besides, Merry dates, you seem okay with that."

"Merry's different. I know she can knock out any man who tried anything she didn't want."

"So because Clare can't knock someone off their feet it's different for her?"

"Yes! No! She's just…she's Little, you know. The baby. I can't believe she's eighteen for crying out loud." Rufus took the perfectly tied black tie off and handed it to his brother, sitting down next to him.  
"I know. I guess it's easier for me because I'm here everyday and I see it happening. You've just come back to realize she's about to be grown up." Flynn pulled the tie over his head, adjusted the collar.

"It makes me feel pretty bad. I should be here."

"You should be where you want to be. I want to be here and you and Merry needed to go somewhere else. Clare will go to school but she'll come back here because this is where she wants to be. We will see you when you come home and we'll always call and text and Skype in between. Don't pull the whole guilt thing. You know you'd be unhappy if you stayed here."

"I seem to remember you being pretty pissed when I left."

"Of course I was. I was sixteen and my brother was leaving me behind. Or so I felt."

"I never wanted to make you feel like that."

"I know. I know you felt as if you had to get out, it's something inside of you. Something Clare and I don't have. I'd rather you go and be happy than stick around and want to go." It had been, Flynn thought. A pull, a need, like a panther prowling behind bars, restless and potent it had pulled and pulled at him until he'd _had_ to leave. Had to live, had to see, had drink it all in.

"You always were the best of us, Fuss."

"I don't know about that."  
"I do." He put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Now let's go socialize with the crème de la crème of Storybrooke." He got up. "Thanks for the help." He patted the impeccable knot in his tie. There was a lot to be said, he thought, for being back home. The endless bars, clubs and pubs were getting old. He was getting old. And so far "the big break" had evaded him. He wasn't entirely sure the need would force his feet again. Perhaps he could have this, have his family and his brother more. Pop in to hug his mother when he wanted, talk to his dad, hear his soothing voice make everything okay again. See Rufus and his pretty wife around town, keep an eye on Little. He had to think about it more but the idea no longer seemed as boring as it once had.

"Oh, and what did you want to talk about?"

"Hmm?"

"You came in here and wanted to talk to me."

"Oh, right. Nothing. It can wait."

"All right." He could see his brother was wanting to tell him something but Rufus had always gotten around to things in his own time. So instead he slung an arm around his shoulder.

"So do you think Roseanne will be here? Is she still hot?"

"Oh, Christ."


	3. Chapter 3

The Hopper house was filled to the brim with party dressed people. Moving slowly from room to room, mingling and drinking, laughter and voices spilling through the windows and doors. Somewhere in the background music was playing, and the scent of perfumes and rarely worn clothes mixed with the Christmas scents of mulled wine, oranges, vanilla cookies and cloves. Breathing it in, feeling the warmth he always did to realize it was his favorite holiday again Rufus looked around. He saw Flynn talking to Mrs. Merriweather, probably flirting happily if the old lady's pink cheeks and glittering eyes were anything to go by. Merry was regaling a crowd with a story about a professor at her university, her gestures wide and her face alive as she kept the crowd in stitches. Clare was in the kitchen, her cheeks prettily rosy from serving the mulled wine and was seemingly keeping three different conversations going. His father was in a corner, talking to Marco and David, a stupidly grinning reindeer adorning his sweater. He'd bet his mother had made him wear that. She was stunning in a red dress and her hair swept back with glittering clips standing out against her still dark hair. Her trademark lipstick and mile high heels had more than one man take a second look but her eyes kept trailing back to his dad, wherever she was, she'd look up, see he was there, smile and then return to her conversation.

"Cee?" His wife looked up from where she was picking which cookie looked biggest, one half-eaten already in her hand. Eating for two seemed to have kicked in already and careful to not mention it he continued. "I know we said we'd wait until after Christmas to tell anyone about the baby, but I…I think we should tell them tomorrow."

"Are you sure? I mean it'd take all the focus off Christmas and your parents and your siblings being home."  
"I know that's what we said but I want to tell them when they're all here. Merry and Flynn will only stay until New Year's Day and…" Putting down the cookie she put a hand to his cheek.

"Okay. I understand you want to tell them in person."

"Thank you. I knew you would get it. So…tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."  
"Are you ready to not have anyone in my family let you lift a finger for the next six months?"

"Bring it on."

o.O.o

Clare brushed a strand of hair off her face and tensed as Peter Dormier made his way over. The son of Aurora and Phillip he was tall, dark and with a perpetual dark stubble. He worked under Emma at the Sheriff's station and Clare had been in love with him for more than half her life. He was nine years older than her and seemed to think of her as some type of honorary little sister as he was friends with Flynn and Rufus which made the case absolutely hopeless but Clare's heart didn't seem to listen to reason. Conscious her cheeks were flushed from standing over steaming pots all evening and that her hair was a mess from running her hands through it, she smiled shakily.

"Hi, Clare." At least he didn't call her Little. Like most of her brothers' friends he had been part of her life for as long as she could remember, always running in and out of the house. But he was the only one she had been in love with since she was six.

"Peter, how are you?"

"Not bad. I had some of your cookies. They were fantastic, like everything you do. Cook, I mean." Her heart sped up at the compliment.

"Ah, thank you. Can I get you some mulled wine?"

"I've probably had my share." He leaned against the kitchen island. "Oh, go on. I'm not working tomorrow. Emma's the only one crazy enough to accept being on call on Christmas Day." He held out his cup and though she knew she was ridiculous she brushed her fingers over the rim where his lips had touched. Filling it, she handed it back.

"You look nice today, is that a new dress?" What could you do when someone had seen you almost everyday of your life and still didn't really _see_? He had seen every single thing in her wardrobe, he had seen all her haircuts, good and bad, had seen her horrible braces phase. And still he'd never really noticed, never really seen that if he'd just give a word she'd do anything for him. Instead she got a brotherly "You look nice". Even Flynn had managed better when he'd said, "Looking good, Little." But she should be used to it by now. Damn Merry for getting her hopes up, convincing her it wasn't as hopeless as it had always been because of one night, one dress, one stupid tube of lipstick.

"Thank you. It is, to me, I mean. It's one of Merry's old ones." She stroked the deep blue velvet sleeves and wondered if he could stop smelling so nice. She just wanted to climb his tall frame and bury her nose in the crook of his neck and inhale. Then take a bite and let her hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, tear them open and…

"Clare?"

"What? What, sorry?" A blush rose in her cheeks.

"I said Merry looks good today too." Her heart sank and she looked over to where Merry was entertaining a large section of the party singlehandedly. Vivacious, funny and quick she stood out like a burning flame in the crowd with her striking hair, dramatic black dress and miles of leg.

"She does."

"It's nice to see her home again. It's been a while." Clare's heart continued to shrink.

"It is. I like having her home." Though maybe not so much in this particular moment when Peter's eyes were trained fondly on Merry's red hair. Clare's hair would never look like it had life of its own; never catch the light like gold being licked by strings of fire. Looking away she turned back to the stove, half-heartedly giving the mulled wine a stir.

"Is something wrong?" She hadn't heard him approach and when he put a hand on her shoulder she jumped. He rarely touched her, barring a teasing tug of her hair or a nudge when they were jointly teasing one of her brothers and the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder sent sparks of electricity chasing down her nerves. Turning, she couldn't help notice how close he was standing, how she could see the pulse beating in his throat, how she'd neatly fit under his chin now that she was wearing heels.

"No, no nothing's wrong I…" She made the mistake of looking up, of meeting his deep green eyes and helplessly she got tripped and fell into them, deeper and deeper until there was nothing but his gaze. Unconsciously she opened her mouth to say something, anything to stop herself from just closing the distance between them forever.

"Clare, it's time." Her brother came to her rescue and turning her attention to Rufus she took a step back.

"Hmm?"

"I said it's time to play."  
"Where are mum and dad?"

"Oh, somewhere. They'll hear it and come back." He smiled and went to join Merry and Flynn where they stood by the piano.

"I… I have to go."

"I know. I look forward to hearing you sing every year." Something tender she had never heard in his voice before set her heart galloping. "All of you, I mean. The Hopper Kids' Annual Christmas Recital."

"Right. Well, I hope you enjoy it." Then she went to her siblings. Sitting down by the piano she drew a deep breath and didn't dare to sneak a look at him but she could feel his eyes trained on her. Flynn was sitting bent over his guitar, tuning quietly. Merry and Rufus were joking as they took their violins out of their cases and the voices around them were buzzing in anticipation.

o.O.o

The dark laundry room was cooler than the rest of the house and Ruby shivered, both in cold and delight as her husband's hand trailed down her side. The mistletoe he'd fished out of his pocket lay forgotten on the floor as she wound her arms wound him. His lips tasted of wine and sweet cookies and she wanted more of it. Deepening the kiss and running her hands through his hair he mumbled in approval and lifted her against him. Wrapping her leg around his waist she felt the beginnings of arousal stir through her blood, rising like flickering flames under her skin.

"Jiminy…"

"Mm?"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"Most definitely, if it regards me having you in here, right now."

"You always did read me well." Feeling his chuckle reverberate though her he hoisted her higher, setting her down on top of the washing machine. His lips trailed down the side of her neck and she arched under his ministrations, feeling the flames burn higher. Then the weeping notes of a single violin seeped through the air. In a moment a second one joined it.

"Wait. Wait, they've started." Jiminy looked up and tilted his head,

"They have. Shall we continue this later?"

"Most definitely. Let's go hear our children play." Sliding off the washing machine she straightened her dress and took Jiminy's proffered hand. Slipping out of the laundry room they made their way to the living room. At the front of the room Flynn was sitting, picking notes on his guitar. Clare sat at the piano, her fingers dancing over the keys and between them stood Merida and Rufus, their eyes closed as they drew the hauntingly beautiful melody form their violins.

As always Ruby felt the tears clog her throat that something as beautiful as the music her children made together could exist. Since they were little they had performed every Christmas for their friends and family. She still remembered the first time when six year old Flynn and four year old Rufus had performed a horrendously out of key "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and she'd still been as proud then. Now the four of them could make a sound she could scarcely believe was them and not a band on a CD.

Feeling Jiminy's arm around her shoulders she leaned against him, as always marveling at the sheer talent they had. It had all been passed from him, she was sure, she had no musical talent barring shouting Bon Jovi songs in the shower so it seemed all the more extraordinary to her. She still got weak at the knees whenever Jiminy played for her but he rarely played at Christmas, claiming he didn't want to steal the spotlight from the children. She didn't think he could do, because the spotlight was shared between them, all they did was as a unit. With or without their father they always performed as one. A look, a thought, a feeling seemed to steer them as Rufus stepped forward, his solo weeping and bleeding though the air. Ruby heard Cecilia's sigh next to her and knew exactly how she felt. Though both Rufus and Merida played the violin they made such different sounds, she always the teasing, dancing, passionate notes and he the pure, beautiful sweeping tones that tugged at your heart. Though she had heard the Christmas song a million times he put something in it that made you believe, hope and wish. She heard longing and she heard starlight in the music he made and saw her other children heard it too as they enjoyed their brother's sole music. Then he stepped back and Merry winked at him in appreciation before joining him in harmony. Clare slid back in, the piano joining the two of them before she picked up the lyrics and sang.

Her Little had always sung, as a baby she had even sung herself to sleep. Now she sang at home, at the Diner, in the car. Always there was a song ready to spring form her lips. Though she didn't think of it as more than singing along with the radio while she worked Ruby knew she wasn't the only one who heard the magic in her voice.

Letting her take over, Rufus and Merry stepped back and Flynn's guitar and Clare's voice the only sounds in the room. Ebbing and flowing they played together and took turns and for half an hour the music held the audience spellbound. Then as one they finished on a soaring note and the disbelieving quiet reigned for three seconds before the applause broke out. Bowing jokingly and laughing with each other her children accepted the praise. Flynn got up and slung an arm around Rufus' shoulders claiming he would kill for a beer. Then a voice was heard in the back.

"That was too damn depressing, can't you play something happier?" Everyone turned to see Grumpy, a little red-eyed from a few traitorous tears running into his beard. At this Merry laughed and teased out the first bars of "Whisky In The Jar" on her violin. And from there the party started. Playing tirelessly her children had the whole party dancing. Couches and tables were pushed back and the floors rang with the weight of the dancing crowd. Trading instruments with each other and taking turns dancing and playing. Though they all had their own they could handle each other's and she laughed as Merry took over on the piano from Clare who was swept up to dance by Flynn and when Rufus' handed his violin to Flynn to dance with his wife. She enjoyed the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach when Jiminy was brought up to play, him Rufus and Merry putting on a show she didn't think anyone would forget for a long time. She blinked back a few tears when Flynn switched to his electric guitar and sang "Livin' on a Prayer" with Clare for her. She danced with most people of Storybrooke but none she treasured more than the dance with Jiminy. She lost her breath when Merry and Rufus almost dueled out "Rolling in the Deep", their bows dancing on the strings and felt her heart swell when her daughters did a duet of "The Book of Love".

Then after hours of dancing people started heading home, all much later than they had planned and Ruby looked around with a laugh. The room was in chaos. Setting her hands to her hips she caught Flynn and Rufus about to head upstairs from the corner of her eye.

"All right, everyone left is helping with clean up."

o.O.o

Clare slipped out for some air, the room behind her stiflingly hot. She'd finished off by playing Merry's violin and though she was nothing compared to her sister or Rufus on the strings she enjoyed it all the same. The party had been great, she'd danced, played, sung. Nothing made her feel like her siblings were home more than playing together and every year the look in her mother's eyes when they did was worth it. Leaning against the wall she enjoyed the cold air against her heated skin. The door opened and seeing Peter step out she sighed inwardly. She didn't want to finish such a great night by going to bed unhappy he still saw her as a child. That he'd never see her as anything but his friend's little sister. He crossed the porch and leaned against the porch rail.

"Great party."

"It was. Louder than it has been in the past."

"A real celebration." He looked out over the snow-covered garden and she took the opportunity to drink in the sight of him. The tall, lanky frame, his long legs, the wide shoulders under his shirt and jacket. The dark hair that curled slightly over his collar, the straight nose, high cheekbones and the deep green eyes. She was sure that if he'd wanted to he could have been a model or an actor. Had she said so she was sure he would have laughed. But he'd always been beautiful, even as a child. She remembered weaving pretty dreams over his face when she was till young enough to believe in fairy tales. Had believed he was the happy ending of hers. He'd been a pre-teen then but it had been all the same to her heart.

"Sometimes you make it really hard, you know." He was speaking but his eyes were still trained on the oak tree at the other side of the yard.

"Sorry?"

"When you laugh and dance. When you wear pretty dresses or run a hand through your hair the way you do. Then you make it really hard for me to help myself." Clare's heart began thundering in her chest.

"Help what?" He pushed off the rail and closed in on her. Towering over her, she dragged her eyes from his lips to his eyes, saw them deep and focused.

"Wanting to do this," he leaned forward, his hand braced on the wall above her head. With the other one he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently touching her cheek. Clare felt herself melt inside like chocolate and her breaths shuddered in and out of her lungs. Her legs felt weak and the scent of him was making her head spin. "I know I shouldn't. I know you're much too young for me. You're my friends' sister. But you're so damn beautiful, Clare. I just can't help it." Then he pressed his lips to hers and she felt happiness explode in her stomach like fireworks, glittering and shining as they fell. Sighing in bliss she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed him tighter. Feeling his hard chest pushed against her, the stubble on his cheeks against her tender skin, the dark taste of him on her tongue she suddenly understood all her mother's warning as about being careful and not losing control. Never before had kissing someone made her frantic for more in seconds. She didn't even really know what the more was, had never gone past second base in her life but now as a pounding, rushing need filled every cell of her body, heated her blood and made it run faster through her she wanted to know. Parting her lips under his she felt him growl and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her closer and lifting her off her feet. Pressed between him and the wall she felt deliciously trapped and instinct drove her hips to roll against his. With a gasp he tore his lips from her and stepped back. Sliding back down she suddenly felt cold, not having the warmth of him pressed against her anymore.

"Shit. I…God, I'm so sorry, Clare. I have to…I…just…Sorry." He stepped back again and again before swinging himself over the porch rail and leaving, his head bent and his hands deep in his pockets. Her heart began to slow down and in wonder she put her fingers to her lips. He'd kissed her. Peter Dormier, the man of her dreams had kissed her, put his hands on her and wanted her. She'd felt it. And then he'd left.

"Clare, if you think you can escape clean up by hiding out there, you're severely mistaken." Her mother's voice trailed out through the door. Pushing off the wall she willed herself to walk inside. "What happened to you? You look like you were asleep." And in a way, Clare thought, hadn't she been? Never knowing this was what wanting a man felt like. She wanted him with an intensity that was slightly scary.

"Just tired."

"We're almost done." Her mother put a hand to her cheek. Like he'd done, yet it had been so different. "If you just unload the dishwasher you can go to bed after."

"Okay, thanks mum." She left and missed the sharp look her mother gave her when she walked past.

o.O.o

Christmas Day dawned quiet and sparkling with fresh snow. Flynn for some reason had not been able to sleep and making his way downstairs he avoided the steps that creaked. In the kitchen the scent of coffee met him and surprised he saw it was his sister who was up. The one who hated mornings.

"What are you doing up?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"Too excited about presents?" She laughed and sat at the kitchen island, a half eaten Christmas cookie already in front of her.

"Yeah, me too." He poured himself a cup, added the cream he liked (though he mostly drank it black as he never had any cream wherever home was that night) and sat opposite her.

"Great party last night. Did you see Granny dance?"  
"I did. Boy, she might be a hundred but she can rock it."

"She'll probably kill you if call her a hundred to her face."

"Fairy Tale Land years are different. I think." None of the Hopper children had ever been to where their parents were from, to them it still seemed slightly fantastical.

"What do you think it's like?"

"Like it has no indoor plumbing." Merry finished her cookie and reached for another one.  
"For real. I've been thinking lately if maybe…Maybe why I needed to get out so bad was because I was looking for roots. Real ones, not the town I was born in because a curse placed my parents here. I mean we're actually from a different world and we can never tell anyone. It's bizarre." Merry narrowed her eyes as she chewed.

"I always forget you're actually smart behind that pretty face. It could be. Looking for a real place to belong." She put the cookie down and looked out the window. "You know lately I've been thinking it actually is here. Isn't that funny?"

"I'd laugh but I've been thinking the same." He was quiet for a while, spinning his coffee cup by the ear. "They're looking for a music teacher at the school, Snow told me."

"Oh?" Merry wasn't at her best in the morning and it took her a minute to connect the dots. "No way. A music teacher? You?" He shrugged.

"Could do worse. Nice pay, summer hols off, doing music."

"What about making it big? Being a rock star? That's your dream, Flynn."

"It hasn't been going so well so far. It's been seven years of playing gigs and getting close, getting my hopes up and deals falling through, I'm just feeling a bit…done with all that." He put his cup down and ran a hand through his hair. Just because he was done trying to make it happen didn't mean it hurt any less to let go of the dream.

"Are you sure? Cause if you come back I think mum and dad will be thrilled through the roof. Especially cause I've decided to come back here too when I'm done with my degree. I want to take over dad's practice when he's done with it." He leaned back. He was just as surprised s by Merry's wish to move back as he had been to realize his own.

"Really? Small town psychiatry? It thought you wanted to unravel the secrets of the disturbed mind, travel around to meet serial killers and the like."  
"Too much TV. I just want to help people, really. And I want to come home."

"I think we may have just found the best Christmas gift ever for our parents."

"Well, we are their favorites after all. The other two are just pale imitations."

o.O.o

Rufus stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene. His parents were sitting together on the couch, curled against each other, watching Merry, Flynn and Clare sitting on the floor going through all the presents, joking what could be in them and who would get coal. Music was playing quietly, the fire was lit and the stockings above hanging from the mantle were bulging. He knew they had picked the perfect time and squeezing Cecilia's hand they joined the nice picture.

With paper scattered around them and his mother wearing the vintage concert Led Zeppelin t-shirt Flynn had won in a poker game in Oregon, paired with the necklace from their dad, Merry wearing the hat Rufus had found in a thrift shop that made him think of her. Clare was already paging through the recipe book Merry had gifted her and Flynn was wearing the scarf their mother had knitted for him. Rufus gathered his courage and took a small package from his pocket.

"There's just one more."

"More?" his mother asked and accepted the gift. "For me?"

"Well, it's for the whole family I suppose but I think you and dad should open it." Sitting back down with Cecilia's hand clasped on his lap they watched as his parents opened the small box. Inside was a little Christmas stocking. Holding it up he saw his mother furrow her brow.

"A new stocking for the family?" Then it seemed to make sense to her. "Oh my god, do you mean? You're, you and Celia, you're…?" Rufus nodded and the smile broke out.

"Yes, we are. In July." As one the whole Lucas-Hopper clan got up as one and both Rufus and Celia got buried under hugs and well wishes. Laughter and tears mixed as his mother hugged him close.

"Baby, my baby. I'm so happy for you. So happy." His dad had a tear at the corner of his eyes too as he hugged him hard.

"You'll be great, Fuss. You'll do great." And that, Rufus knew, that faith in him, was the best Christmas gift he would get.

o.O.o

In the cold evening the family stood on the porch for another family tradition. It didn't always happen on Christmas but when it did, it belonged. It was a clear full moon on the evening of the 25th this year and one by one the Lucas-Hopper children stepped forward, slid into wolf shape and bounded out in the garden. Ruby went last and with a happy bark they tumbled in the snow, wrestling and chasing each other. Standing on the porch with his hands in his pockets Archie felt the love he held for them bloom in his chest with ferocity. Here he had everything, he had his Red, his wonderful children, his house and soon, there would be a new life in the family. A welcome addition, a baby to nurse and watch grow up. A little girl, Rufus had said, in July. Jiminy couldn't wait to hold his first granddaughter, watch her first steps, hear her first words. Know his son would get to take part in the magic he could not believe how happy he was for him. It was right, somehow, that Rufus would be the first to know. He would be a great dad, Jiminy already knew.

Sitting down he watched as Ruby in wolf form parted from her children with an affectionate head-butt and came back to him, in one moment wolf and the next shimmering back into her usual form. Behind her the four wolves howled in delight and set off into the forest and they both knew they wouldn't be back until dawn. It was something else the siblings shared. Joining him on the porch, Red sat next to him.

"I didn't think I'd have to be a sexy grandmother so soon."

"Makes it easier to be sexy though, doesn't it?" Ruby laughed.

"Indeed. Oh, Jiminy, how did we get so old so fast? Where did the years go?"

"I was already old when I met you so…"  
"Oh, rubbish. You were not old. In fact I remember you were rather vigorous…" She wiggled her eyebrows at him and he chuckled.

"I had to be to keep up with you." She sighed and found his hand.

"You always did. Do you know how grateful I am everyday for having you?"

"I know. I feel it too."

"And now we're going to have our next adventure. A grandbaby. Granddaughter. Oh, I can't wait to share a granddaughter with Belle. We're going to have to fight over babysitting hours."

"I'll have to get in on that with Rum as well. He's going to spoil her rotten."

"And when we don't get to have her we'll have Merry and Flynn back. Can you believe it? Both deciding to move back home soon."

"It'll be great to have them around again."

"And we'll only lose Clare for a little bit while she goes to school. I think." Ruby furrowed her brow and looked out over the garden.

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday after the party I…I smelled a man on her, Jiminy. She'd been kissing someone and she hasn't told me who it is. She always tells me."

"She might not be ready to yet."

"That's what scares me. This time it means something. She's so young, Jiminy, I'm not sure she's ready for what I saw in her eyes." He felt his heart twist in worry. His baby, his youngest had taken another shaky step to becoming a woman, no longer his little girl, no matter how he felt.

"We can only trust her at this point, Red. She's old enough to make her own choices."

"But what if she gets hurt? She's so…tender, so different from Merry when it comes to those things. She's easily bruised."

"We can't protect her from life, no matter how much we want to."

"You're right, I know that but I can't help it. She's Little, she always will be."

"We're never going to stop worrying. Since you told me Flynn was on the way I haven't had a fully peaceful breath."

"I know that feeling. Oh, Jiminy, I don't think I could have done this with anyone but you."

"This?" He gestured questioningly.  
"Four children. I have never regretted a moment of it, never really struggled because you've always been there. I think with you by my side I could have faced absolutely anything." She got up and he opened his arms letting her settle on his lap, curling against him.

"And it's not over yet."  
"Thank god for that. I'm not done with you yet. In fact, I still have one more gift but it takes unwrapping upstairs." He heard the now familiar tone, the sexy teasing note in it and knew the fruits of her online shopping were about to be uncovered. Feeling arousal and expectation warm his veins he smiled.

"You definitely spoil me."

"I hope you'll think so when you see it." He certainly did when the last layer fell and blood pounded so loud in his ears he barely heard her say

"Merry Christmas, Jiminy."

A/N: And Merry Christmas to all of you! I hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. I'm now a massive future!Storybrooke fan and ship Clare/Peter like you can't believe. I hope to pull something else Red Cricket Christmas Bash prompted together, we'll see how it goes….Until next time, S.D.


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